tied, he would have done far more
than kiss her.
***
The morning dawned foggy and wet.
Dodge and his men were up at sunrise, folding their makeshift camp and
tormenting their prisoner. Last night, Alisanne had been terrified to show any
measure of compassion to Roane while the men were beating on him, but after a
restless night where visions of his strong face danced through her head, she
had awoken to realize she felt extremely protective of him. This was all her
fault, after all, and she could not stand by while those ruffians who held her
father pounded on a defenseless man. She
had to help him.
She also woke feeling rather
poor. Her sore throat had developed into a cough and her clothes were wet and
musty. She stank, and she was miserable, but it didn’t dampen her sense of
determination. Snatching a hunk of bread that one of Dodge’s men had offered
her, she stomped across the wet grass to the wagon. Two men were standing in
the bed of the wagon, telling Roane all of the terrible things they were going
to do to him as she walked up. They kicked him once, twice, before she
screeched and put a halt to it.
“Get away from him,” she said, her voice gravelly from her developing illness. When
they stared at her as if she had two heads, she exploded. “Get away I say. Get
away before I beat you myself!”
One leapt off. The other one
stayed. Alisanne glared at him as she climbed up on the bed of the wagon, like
two dogs challenging each other for the kill. Alisanne’s bright green eyes were
blood shot and unnaturally bright as she waved her hand at Dodge’s man. “Go,”
she hissed. “Go!”
He snarled at her and slid off
the wagon. Alisanne watched him and his partner slink away, like two scolded
wolves. She knew they were going straight to Dodge and she hurried to remove Roane’s
gag, which they had apparently replaced.
“Here,” she held the bread to his
mouth. “You must be famished.”
His handsome face was bruised
from the beating he had taken. But the eyes that gazed up at her were bright
and alert. “Have you eaten this morning?” he asked.
Her brows furrowed. “No,” she
said, “but that is of no matter. You haven’t either, and you must have your
strength.”
He smiled at her, his dimples
deep. “I am strong enough. You, however, are becoming ill. I heard you coughing
all night.”
She looked surprised. “You did?”
she said. Then, she blushed, flattered that he would be thinking of her. “I am
well enough. Please, eat this and hurry. Dodge will be here any moment.”
He rolled onto his back, gazing
up at her warmly. “I cannot protect you
from these idiots, nor can I dry your wet clothing or shield you from these
elements. But I can refuse your breakfast so you can maintain your strength.
Will you not allow me that privilege?”
Alisanne blushed madly. Having
very little experience with men, she wasn’t as practiced as she should have
been in controlling her reaction. “After all I’ve caused, you would still show
me kindness?”
“It is my pleasure.”
“But why?”
He lifted his eyebrows
carelessly. “Would you rather I curse the ground you walk on?”
She grinned and looked down at
the bread in her hand. She held it up timidly, like an offering. “I would feel
better if you ate it.”
He laughed softly, his teeth
straight and white against his smooth lips. “Very well,” he said. “I shall
divide it with you, if that makes you happy.”
She tore it in half and put a
piece in his mouth. “Here, let me help you sit up,” she said, grabbing hold of
his leather vest and pulling him up. He was heavy and it took a good deal of
effort; she had no way of knowing that he had done all the work. “There. Is
that better?”
He nodded and swallowed. She
popped the second and last piece into his mouth, squealing when he pretended to
bite her fingers. Giggling like a little girl, she ate her own portion
happily. Roane tried not to stare at
her, for she